


the sea, take us back

by vannral



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Character Study, Folklore, Friendship, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2019-03-22 23:46:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13775169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vannral/pseuds/vannral
Summary: The sea says: You are not welcome here. This place is not for you.Caleb Widogast fights with everything he has to get back what was once ripped from him.





	1. unwanted

The smell of sea’s salt and fish whiff with overwhelming intensity into Caleb’s nostrils.

White foam crashes into sand, pulls back and crashes again.

( _black beneath the waves)_

The sound is almost deafening.

_(do you remember...? do you remember how it feels just to sink and sink and sink beneath those waves?)_

A tremor goes through Caleb’s body, and he has to look away.

_You are not welcome here._

     “Caleb?”

Nott’s nervous voice wrenches Caleb back to reality.

     “Yes! Yes, apologies, what is it?” he startles and cringes inwardly how panicked he sounds.

Nott blinks, a little taken aback.

     “Sorry - didn’t mean to sneak. Kinda. ‘s just... the camp’s done? They got fire going and everything.” Her attention drifts to the sea, the rolling waves, _pushing and pulling._ “It’s...kinda scary, isn’t it?” she says hesitantly.

Heaviness settles in Caleb’s chest, and it feels _old. He_ feels so old.

     “It is”, he murmurs.

     “I mean, ‘s so _big._ Nowhere to run. Or - or swim. I guess. If you can. And everything in it wants to _eat_ you or drown you”, she points out very matter-of-factly.

     “No, no, I’m not arguing with you, you are absolutely right.”

The scent of salt makes his gut twist unpleasantly. But his fondness for Nott overwhelms everything else so he just says: “Do you know there are fish near the sea floor that have glowing antlers on them?”

Nott looks particularly disturbed by that. “Why?”

     “To lure little fish in. To eat.”

Caleb mimics a gaping maw with his fingers.

Nott grimaces. 

     “Ew, _see?_ Terrifying, why do they need to have _lights?_ Really unnecessary, like the sea isn’t terrible enough.”

Caleb snorts a laugh, genuinely amused. He can feel the knots in his stomach grow lighter already. 

_(sea doesn’t pull, won’t pull)_

     “Don’t worry, we’re not going anywhere near them”, he says fondly.

She still glances the sea a little nervously as if expecting it to spit some deep sea creatures at her.

     “Oh, geez, I really hope not...”

Shuddering she tugs his sleeve, and with that, they head back to the camp.

_(away from the roar of the sea, it’s call, gulls screeching and it all pierces through caleb’ heart)_

He’s glad for the group, at that moment. _So_ relieved and so glad he could not tell them with words. 

In the camp Beau is pestering a very grumpy Mollymauk when Yasha will join them _(“I don’t know! She does this sometimes, I don’t know, Beau, please get off my back, she’ll join us when she can!”)_

Jester’s tracing the map’s faded ink lines with her finger, murmuring quietly under her breath, _making plans, longing, wondering and worrying_ all in equal measures.

Fjord furrows his brow by the fire, the golden-red glow reflecting from his eyes like he’s wondering something with a heavy heart.

 _(are you all right?)_  

After a beat of hesitation, Caleb decides to sit beside Fjord and _because words fail and tangle in his mouth,_ he fishes out a book from his coat.

Fjord shakes out from his ponderings, blinks slowly. “Hey. Did ya find anythin’ interesting there?”

     “Oh, by the beach?”

     “Mmh.”

     “Uh, no. Seaweed, but nothing alarming.”

Fjord’s mouth quirks into a teasing grin. “No sea monsters wavin’ at you, then?”

     “I’ll make sure to wave back next time”, Caleb answers mildly.

That makes Fjord laugh, his eyes crinkled with joy, and Caleb’s heart skips a beat, _jolts_ and _goes into a very uneven rhythm._

Pleased warmth spreads through Caleb’s chest. 

(it feels good. to make someone laugh.)

     “I don’t think we gotta worry ‘bout sea monsters tonight”, Fjord says, still grinning. 

     “Very disappointing, I was really looking forward of seeing one”, Caleb says and catches a look on Fjord’s gaze; bright amber and _affectionate and warm.._

What has he ever done to deserve such a look?

     “Let’s keep our fingers crossed, yeah?”

     “You have a deal.”

+

Night falls.

Everybody sleeps.

Caleb slips quietly into the shadows and returns to the beach.

It’s cold and bleak.

He stands, breathes shakily, undresses and wades into the waves.

The water is icy cold and _violent;_ it throws and surrounds him, ready _to pull him under, ready to drown him,_ but Caleb knows the sea’s tricks and will not surrender to such a death.

_(it’s mockery, ironic, wouldn’t you agree?)_

_(very fitting, young widogast)_

Cruel playing.

The salty taste is familiar on his lips, the smell of seaweed and fish lodges painful memories in his head, but _this is_ _hollow._

No answer. _No call beneath the waves._

Just darkness.

Just ready to drown him, at the slightest mistake.

_You are not welcome here. This place is not for you._

_I know,_ Caleb thinks and the loss _stings_ between his ribs, even after all this time _._

He buries his fingers into his wet hair, rubs his scalp, and stares at his bare, pale skin like it would somehow _change,_ but no. No such luck.

_(of course not. life does not hand out miracles cheaply)_

Caleb rubs the grime and dust from his skin, submerges himself _below the waves,_ and there’s _nothing but darkness,_ just nothing that happens, his lungs protest and burn and he has to go back up.

 _(what did you expect?)_  

Caleb feels silly, tricked, like a naïvely hopeful child. Embarrassed and heart heavy _,_ he returns to the beach, dresses up and goes back to the camp, sneaks back to his bedroll and falls asleep.

+

He dreams of black water and _cold, cold, cold on his skin, too bare, too thin, too not-there._

+

     “So... did ya enjoy your random midnight skinny dip?” Beau drones out of nowhere and Caleb chokes in his coffee.

Her blue eyes are sharp, _suspicious._

Others blink.

     “You went for a swim?” Jester squeals. “ _At night?_ Was it awful? Did the seaweeds touch your leg? Because that’s... that’s the _worst.”_

     “’Cause it’s never just seaweed”, Nott points out seriously.

     “Um, no - I - “ Terribly flustered, Caleb clears his throat. “Yes, I - I did. I wanted to try it”, he deadpans, throwing a flat look at Jester.

     “At night?” Beau drawls and takes a sip of her tea. “Why would you do that, _at night?”_  

     “It was _dark -_ no, you are absolutely right, I’m lying, I was plotting to kill all of you”, Caleb deadpans.

Fjord snorts.

Beau squints suspiciously at Caleb.

Jester giggles. “No _oo_ , you weren’t.”

     “No, I wasn’t. I could not sleep, did not want to disturb anyone so I went for a swim. It’s been a while since I have done that. So, _yes,_ I was plotting your murders, thank you very much.” 

Beau still scowls, narrowing her eyes, but Fjord asks, amusement laced in his deep baritone:

     “Any sea monsters this time?”

     “See, it’s never seaweed”, Nott says and waves her toast at them.

     “No, unfortunately, I - um, managed to evade that sort of thing. This time. Though, I’m starting to think you _want_ me to see a sea monster”, Caleb points out and can’t help but be gently teasing.

Fjord’s amber eyes light up and flicker, and his mouth turns into a smirk, lazy and languid _._

“Well, I suppose it depends what kinda monster it is...” he drawls, his voice dropping an octave _lower,_ and shivering, Caleb feels his stomach jolt. Rosy red hue spreads on his cheeks.

_Not good._

_(gulls screech. stop. stop. you are not good or whole or there enough for anything to - )_

He downs the coffee. It tastes bitter. 

     “Did you like it?” Nott asks very _carefully,_ so low that the others can’t hear her, but the question is innocent enough.

Caleb clears his throat, fiddles with the cup, trying to distract himself from the gnawing feeling under his skin.

     “W - well, yes and no, I just... it’s not the same, certainly.”

Nott grimaces. “I’m sorry we didn’t get it, when we escaped.”

     “I know, it’s not your fault. We were in a hurry. There were more... pressing issues, at the time.”

     “Like fire. But _still_ , it’s still makin’ me itchy, ‘cause we _missed_ it...” She nibbles her bacon with a faraway look in her yellow eyes. “We could - turn around to get it?”

     “ _Ach,_ it’s too far. It’s a wonderful idea, but it’s... it’s not worth it right now. When we have the opportunity _and_ time _and_ resources, then perhaps we could try it that way. But now? No.”

     “Oh, okay. I just... I’m worried about you. It’s not okay, it’s _awful_ and really wrong, it’s not how you want it to be - “

     “Sure, but - there are _bigger_ problems than any of mine.” Caleb softens his voice. “Thank you, but you really shouldn’t worry so much. I’m fine, I swear to you.”

She eyes him. Then, finally, she says faintly: “Okay. But you’d tell me if anything changes, right?”

     “Absolutely”, Caleb promises and this time, it’s not a lie, it’s not a hollow half-truth. He will desperately try to keep this promise as well as he can. She deserves _everything_ good and kind and _decent._

She beams.

It’s all right.

+

Behind them, the sea gulls _scream._

+

Caleb is worried about Fjord; the half orc seems _rattled,_ on edge when they return to the road. Though Caleb understands; throwing up salt water, _sea water,_ is not a very reassuring thing to anyone.

Fjord’s shoulders are tensed, his neck stiff, and the way he curls into himself, into deep thoughts strikes a painful chord in Caleb.

     “Are you all right?” he asks, concerned.

Fjord _flinches_ until he realizes who is talking, but he still doesn’t relax. “Yeah. Yeah, ‘m all right. Don’t worry ‘bout me”, he grunts.

Caleb has told _that_ lie enough times to know when someone else is telling it.

     “You don’t have to tell me”, he says softly, “but if sometime you want to, I’m willing to listen. Whatever it is. Okay?”

Fjord’s hard carved expression softens slightly. “Thanks, Caleb, I appreciate it. That’s kind of you.”

Caleb’s skin heats up under that warm gaze, and he berates himself for reacting like a giddy teenager.

     “I want to help. However I can. With any questions you have, whatever is _bothering_ you, I’m here.”

He’s startled to realize just _much_ he means this; sincerity _bleeds_ from his lips, and he’s ready to help, ready to defend, and it’s such an overwhelming realization that strikes him with strange clarity.

Fjord bows his head a little, as if mulling it over in his head, and when he looks up, his smile is so heartbreakingly _soft,_ gentle.

     “Thank you.”

+

     “Does the sea make ya uncomfortable?”

Fjord’s question _almost_ makes Caleb freeze.

(they are far enough from the beach, the gulls are silent now, _far enough from it all that he doesn’t wince anymore.)_

     “Sometimes”, Caleb answers a little hesitantly _._ “Nott made some... excellent points about it’s vastness and things in it that want to eat you, and to be honest, she’s not really wrong.”

Fjord shakes his head. “No”, he says, almost growling. “She is not.”

A shadow falls on his face, and Caleb’s breathing hitches.

_Something is wrong. Something -_

     “Yet you defied it all by goin’ _swimmin’.”_

     “A - good point, yes. I wasn’t lying, though, I wanted to go. It’s been a while.” Caleb rubs his cold hands. “And you? Does it make you uncomfortable?” 

For a moment - for one, _horrifying_ moment Fjord looks like he’s in _agony._ Then it passes like it’s never been there, but Caleb is left with a sickening worry for him.

_What is going on?_

     “Heh, it’d make me a goddamn fool not to be terrified of it. Really treacherous, the sea, ain’t it. Things go badly, really fast if you’re not careful enough.”

Caleb hesitates. “Sometimes it’s not in your control”, he murmurs. He remembers how the sea rolled and stormed and _tore_ ships apart _,_ how _furious_ it’d been on that night, when he....

     “Definitely not. We’re a small bunch on those waves, ridin’ up, yeah? Not much control or luck. We’re just... goin’ with it, prayin’ it’ll somehow end up in our favor.”

     “Often it doesn’t.”

     “Yeah. Lucky us.”

They walk in silence.

Suddenly Fjord stops him, and Caleb turns, surprised.

    “Look, I - I gotta apologize. Didn’t mean to get all gloomy on you, you didn’t do anythin’ wrong. I’m sorry.”

Caleb’s eyes widen. “I told you I’m willing to listen, being gloomy doesn’t matter. You have all the right to feel however you want.”

Fjord has not expected _that,_ his eyes widen, and he looks _flustered._

     “Y - yeah, well...” He clears his throat, rubs the back of his neck. “Thanks.”

     “You’re welcome.”

+

Finally they arrive to Zadash.

It’s colourful and busy and _constant;_ tangible with passing people, chattering and laughing and yelling, and Caleb’s anxiety flares up, crawls into his neck and he instantly feels _jittery._

Jester is eager to get to the closest post office and drags Nott behind her; Beau, who is _bored out of her skull,_ decides to accompany them, balancing her staff on her shoulders. Mollymauk watches after them with a frown and mutters:

     “Oh, what the hell. Why not. Let’s just _split_ up in a city we don’t know. What a marvellous idea, it’s a wonder we haven’t died yet.” He sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose like he’s developing a headache. ”How about we find an inn?”

     “Seems to be our usual drill”, Fjord says wryly.

They find an inn. It’s a bit fancier than what they usually pick, but this time they have coin for it. Caleb appreciates how clean it is and loves the pure lavender scent.

     “All right, now that we have a roof above our heads for a night or two, _I’m_ going to have a drink”, Mollymauk announces. “Preferably multiple.”

     “Fair enough, go for it”, Fjord nods and glances at Caleb. “How ‘bout you? Shoppin’?”

     “At some point, certainly”, Caleb answers calmly, not at all bothered by the playfulness in Fjord’s tone. “But right now, I - I much prefer sitting a bit.”

Fjord frowns. “You doing okay?”

     “Good _grief”,_ Mollymauk mutters, rolling his eyes as he decides he’s not getting paid enough to deal with _them_ and makes his way back to the counter.

Fjord and Caleb ignore him. “I’m all right, just tad tired”, Caleb replies and he’s not sure if it’s affection and amusement lacing through his voice.

     “Yeah, okay, I get that.”

Maybe he does. It seems to be a recurring theme.

Caleb sits by the fire to get warm and maybe to leaf through his books.

Usually that makes him drowsy and _content, his safe haven,_ the way for him to _relax,_ but this time he can’t help but notice a strange sort of _buzz_ gnaw and prickle at his skin.

It makes him jittery, his nerves pull and fray and _unravel,_ and uneasy feeling curls in the pit of his stomach.

It takes him a few beats to comprehend what it _really_ means, and suddenly he _gets_ it and all blood rushes out of his face.

_Oh, no. Oh, no -_

Eyes wide in _utter terror,_ he stops breathing.

It means -

_It means -_

_Oh gods. It’s here. It’s here, and that probably means **he’s** here, and - _

Panic surges into his throat, leaving him trembling, _so cold, and he can almost hear gulls screeching -_

     “Well, you look like you are ready to hurl”, Mollymauk’s voice filters through, and Caleb shoots on his feet, eyes wide.

Mollymauk tenses at the sudden movement and frowns.

     “What’s wrong?”

     “I - I’m - I’m not sure, but I - “ Breathing strangling in his throat, Caleb looks wildly at Mollymauk. “I’m so sorry, I need to check out something - “

      “Hey, wait a _minute - “_

 _“I’m sorry,_ I - I need to do something _\- “_

Without stopping, Caleb rushes out of the inn, blood rushing in his ears, like _a drum._

+

He runs, runs and _runs_ through alleys and streets, his panic now overdriving his rising anxiety, heart pounding like a hammer against his ribs -

_Why? Why is **he** here? **He** shouldn’t be here, **he** ’s got it with him, no, no, no - _

All this time they have spent on _running_ away, escaping and evading, and it’s all been in vain -

Breathing harshly, chest heaving painfully, Caleb stops. Stops to scan the city - to that painfully _familiar magic that belongs to him,_ that’s always been _his,_ will never stop being his, and it’s been _so long since he’s felt it -_

_Where are you?_

He can’t find it.

That’s the whole thing, isn’t it. _The root of the whole problem._

It would’ve been so much easier if he could locate it, find it, _but the world doesn’t really work like that and magic doesn’t really work like that, and **he** knows it. _

Caleb bites his lower lip, thinks feverishly.

The enchantment burns his chest. Almost like to taunt him how _close_ he is, but not _really._

Caleb grits his teeth.

Frumpkin settles on his shoulder, chirping.

     “I know”, Caleb manages to say. “I have to borrow your eyes for a bit, friend. Do you mind?”

The sparrow chirps again - and flutters to the sky.

Caleb hides himself behind some barrels in a dark alleyway, sits down and breathing deeply, looks through Frumpkin’s eyes at Zadash.

_Rooftops, temples, marketplaces -_

_Where could **he** be? _

Brothel, tavern, inn, _guard_ barracks?

Frumpkin flies _low,_ trying to see _everything_ , people, crown guards, _maybe **he’s** there - ? _

It’s _close_ now, he knows it is, but how will he get there, wherever it might be? How much does he have to blackmail and con and _swindle_ to get even a hint of wherever _he_ is?

With a heavy heart, Caleb pulls back into his own body to -

     “ - aleb? _Caleb?!”_

He wakes up to see Nott’s worried eyes - her lips are trembling.

     “What _happened,_ what are you doing here, are you okay, oh _gods,_ what happened to you?” she panics.

     “I’m all right - easy, it’s all right. I’m okay”, Caleb grunts, his head reeling a bit in vertigo.

Nott examines him nervously. “You’re upset. Why are you upset?” she whispers.

Caleb hates to burden her with his problems - that are completely his fault, anyway, she shouldn’t suffer for those - but she’s his friend and he owes her _so much,_ at least honesty.

So he sighs. “It’s here. The warden is here.”

Nott’s jaw drops. “ _What?_ Did you see him, where is he? How do you _know?”_

Caleb taps his sternum.

     “This lit up. So it means _it’s_ near, so _he_ has to be here, right?”

Nott bites her lip, worrying and restless. “Are you sure? He might’ve...sold it?”

Caleb chokes out a dark laugh. “Giving up any power over me? Unlikely.” He shudders, fidgets with his fingers. “He would keep it.” _Like a trophy._

     “If - if you’re sure. What do you wanna do? We don’t know where he is?” 

     “We - might - ask around?”

     “You don’t think that’s kinda suspicious?”

     “It is - it definitely _is,_ but... I don’t think we can get another chance. I’m so sorry, Nott, but - I don’t think I can let this pass.”

     “No, no, I get it, I totally get it! I’m helping you!”

     “Oh. Thank you.” Caleb pauses. “What are you doing here, though, I thought you were with Jester and Beau?”

She looks sheepish. “Yeah, I was, but I wanted to window-shop a bit - they were okay with it, she got the letter from her Mom, I think? Then - then I think I saw Frumpkin, but then I wasn’t sure ‘cause there are probably a lot of sparrows, and _then_ I saw you spacing out here, what if someone _saw_ you?”

     “Well, I’m - I’m glad it was you, then.”

     “You really should be more careful, Caleb...”

     “I know, I know, you are so right.” He reaches to ruffle her hair and hauls himself up. “Did you find anything nice for yourself?”

Her grin doesn’t waver. “Yep! Look, a pretty flask!”

(it’s got a lovely pearl-shimmer to it, and he thinks it’s very pretty.)

+

They listen. Frumpkin listens.

Everybody knows _something;_ not all, not everything, but _enough_ for them to go forward, and forward.

Finally, _finally_ the path of bread crumbs take them to a crown guard’s barracks. _A new warden,_ says a baker to a curious mother of three.

 _Came from the south,_ says a fisherman to another.

_In the barracks._

Cold shivers crawl on Caleb’s spine, and his muscles lock into place. It’s dark inside, dark and _terrifying,_ he knows the prisoners _scream_ inside, but they can’t hear it here, on the street, _outside._

_You are outside. Calm down._

Nott tugs his sleeve. “Caleb?”

     “I’m all right.”

     “It’s okay. I feel it, too”, she whispers, biting her claw anxiously. “I can try to steal it?”

Caleb doesn’t say anything. He hates this, putting her in danger, because he’s the one who got caught _once upon a time,_ and now he can’t even find his _treasure, he got careless,_ and she still offers to help him.

     “No, I - I think we might have to wait a little bit. Darkness would be ideal?”

     “But he might _move!”_ Nott protests.

     “He’s not really a spontaneous person in that sense, so I like our chances.”

Nott looks like she would like to argue, but lets it be.

( _guilt stings him, this is his problem, his cross to bear, their friends are waiting for them in the inn, and he’s here - )_

He pushes it aside, clenches his teeth and sends Frumpkin very carefully inside through a small crack in the window.

The fae flies on the ceiling, sits on a rafter, peers down and navigates. The guards in the hall - eating, muttering, conversing _-_

And - and _there - ?_

Caleb grips his knees in sudden panic.

 _It’s him -_ it’s him, the warden, right there. Just like Caleb remembers him. A large man, thick and athletic, beady eyes that hold no mercy nor compassion for any living things, _magic is beneath us, it makes you no better than cattle!_

( _caleb remembers that face, haunting his nightmares, twisting in monstrous snarl - he **remembers** \- )_

Shivering now violently, Caleb forces himself back on track and follows Frumpkin’s vision to the bunks - but the warden isn’t that low on the _ranking hierarchy -_ if he’s here, he’s transfered, so he should have his own office, _office, where is it - ?_

  _Up, up, up -_

_There!_

A nice plaque - all official and polished, _important._

Caleb hates it. The pretentious nature of it all. _Suits him._

 _But... it could be there._ Caleb couldn’t feel it right now, he can’t make a difference, but...

He returns to his body.

     “I found his office”, he rasps to Nott, whose face has been steadily paling. “I’m going there.”

     “What, _now?”_ Nott nearly shrieks, showing just how terrified she is. “You can’t, they are there, you get caught! Let me sneak in!”

     “Nott, forgive me for saying this, but better me than you. You are a goblin, in _Zadash,_ breaking into the crown guard’s barracks, _in the middle of the night._ No. I - I will disguise myself and maybe I will be able to sneak into his office.”

Nott’s jaw trembles. “I don’t like it. That’s not a good plan. So many things can go wrong with that - !”

     “I know”, Caleb says wearily. “Believe me, I know. But I’m - I have to do it.”

And Nott, to her own horror, realizes she can’t argue with that. She _can’t._

So she just stares at him desperately and in panic.

     “Okay”, she whispers, and Caleb absolutely _hates_ himself.

+

They wait until it’s dark, and Caleb’s trembling so hard he can barely breathe.

+

The sky is ink blue, _black,_ the street lights flicker and Caleb rises up.

     “You should go, Nott.”

Her head snaps up, her eyes glowing bright yellow in shock. “ _What?”_

     “You should go back to the inn - if they catch me, they will check if I have accomplices, and I don’t want you to get caught in the crossfire. Plus - someone - has to tell our friends where we’ve been.”

     “That’s so _silly - !_ You’re really worrying me, Caleb, this isn’t good!”

     “No, but _please,_ Nott, I’m _begging_ you - “

     “If - if I went back to the inn - and I’m not saying I’m _gonna -_ what would I even say to them? That we’re breaking into the crown guard barracks? And then they ask _why?”_

     “They don’t need to know _what_ I’m getting”, Caleb wheezes. Blind panic, _terror_ is nearly overwhelming him, nearly clouding his senses. To go _back - to be in the same space as HIM -_ it _grips_ him.

 _Paralyzes_ him.

_Breathe. Breathe. He doesn’t know you are in here._

     “Just - just tell them I’m getting back what has been stolen from me. No need to tell them _what_ it is. Please?”

Nott seems to curl into herself. “I don’t like it - please, just - don’t go and get caught in the meanwhile?” she _begs_ him. “I’m - I’m gonna _go_ and get them and we’re doing this properly! With backup! Okay?”

     “Okay”, Caleb hears himself echo.

     “Don’t go in yet?”

And he lies.

     “I’ll check this alley for openings.”

+

Nott runs as fast as she can.

Caleb waits as she disappears around the corner, snaps his fingers, disguises himself to a guard and goes in.

_I’m sorry, Nott. So, very sorry._

+

Caleb’s heart pounds like a sledgehammer.

With every beat, he _shakes._

Memories cause terror, anxiety, blind instinct to run, _to escape_ thunders in his head.

 _No._ Go. Go. Go.

He straightens, mimics a crown guard’s posture and nods politely to passing guards that are apparently ready to go to bed.

They nod back, pass him.

_They don’t turn._

_Go. GO. Don’t linger -_

Slowly, he rises the set of stairs. To the warden’s office.

_Blood rushes in his ears._

The floor is empty. He glances around - presses his ear against the door. Listens.

_Please don’t be there, please -_

Nothing.

_Silence._

He tries the handle. Locked.

Caleb sighs deeply, kneels to lockpick it - he’s not nearly as good as Nott is, but he’s now stupidly relieved that he’s taken time to learn such a skill. Finally, the door clicks and slides open.

The office smells of leather and old _cologne._

Caleb stiffens. He remembers that scent. It’s etched into his memory, and it kicks instinctive, _primal fear_ into him. He remembers smelling it, in the prison, in the torture chamber, he _remembers it -_  

 _Stop it._ Just find it.

_Now._

Fingers trembling, he browses the office, pulls open drawers, looks under tables, frustration and fear escalating with each passing _minute -_

_It must be here, there’s no way he’d leave it in a brothel -_

It has to -

Suddenly the enchantment around his throat flares to life, and it burns like wildfire, nearly causing Caleb to crash on his knees -

\- it’s near? _It’s near?_

It has to be somewhere -

     “Looking for this?”

Caleb freezes. _Oh no._

The warden stands on the doorway, casting a long, _long_ shadow on him.

And he’s got his hands on _it._

+

     “Long time no see, Widogast”, the warden purrs, his voice leaving an oily, sticky feeling onto Caleb’s skin. “My, I haven’t seen _that_ mug in a while. Would know that nervous twitch _anywhere._  Couldn’t really help yourself, could you?”

 _He knows who I am? How can he - ?_ Caleb can’t breathe. _Whatever, doesn’t matter, he knows, he sees me -_ Caleb’s vision pulses around the edges, his lungs are on _fire - breathe, breathe -_

The warden flashes a thin smile. “Now, whatever could you be doing in Zadash, I wonder? Such a busy place, and if I remember correctly you _hate_ crowded places. That desperate, are you?”

     “I am not”, Caleb forces out, his voice _rattled._ “I want what’s mine back.”

     “Oh, this?” The warden pets the skin, the sleek fur in his grip, and Caleb shudders. It feels wrong, he feels in every cell in his body, how _that man is not supposed to touch that -_ “Yes, I was quite stunned to find that you left it behind when you made your... neat little escape.”

The smile drops, and the warden’s mouth tightens, curls venomously. “You burnt the prison down.”

     “My apologies, I should have paid for my stay”, Caleb mocks without blinking.

     “Bullshit. But now you’re _back,_ and we have a score to settle.”

     “We have no such thing. You _will_ give me that.”

The warden howls with laughter. “You really think so? I still hold this - and what can you _do_ about it?” he asks saccharine _sweetly_ and runs _his fingers on the coat -_

     “Stop”, Caleb rasps.

     “Oh, this? Does this make you uncomfortable, abomination?”

Caleb can feel ghost touches digging into his skin, like _sickness -_

Something in him _explodes._ He extends his hand, and a blast of crystal bright ice shoots out, collides, crashes and the warden howls:

     “ _MAGIC! MAGIC IN THE BARRACKS!”_

_Oh no - !_

He dashes into action, desperately reaches for the fur, _the enchantment goes haywire in him,_ it’s here, _it’s here_ \- _!_ But strong hands grab him, someone punches him brutally on the jaw, and he sees _stars -_

 _Oh, I’m so sorry,_ he thinks dizzily, _I’m so sorry, please - please don’t come here - I made a mistake..._

The guards drag him to the interrigation room.

He knows that smell. Of blood and sweat -

_Oh, I didn’t miss any of this._

The warden orders the guards away, _go back to sleep, I’ve got this,_ settles the fur carefully away and saunters in front of Caleb. The torch light casts a very unflattering shadow on his sweaty face.

     “Welcome back, Widogast”, he grins, his mouth all wide and full of yellow teeth. “I missed you, _freak.”_

He makes sure that Caleb sees the burning, red-hot poker that still smokes.

And Caleb wishes he would wake up.

+


	2. accepted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things come to a conclusion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so humbled and amazed by all the comments and kudos and bookmarks this has received, that's seriously brilliant, thank you guys so much <3

Nott bursts through the inn’s front door, pale and half-out of her mind with _panic._

Mollymauk, who has been sipping his whiskey and keeping an eye on people retiring for the night, spots her immediately across the room and shoots on his feet. There’s a horrible, churning feeling in his gut.

     “What’s wrong?”

     “ _Caleb!”_ she screams out, slamming her fists on Mollymauk’s table, not caring one bit _who_ hears. Her porcelaine mask clinks loose.

Mollymauk grabs her quickly and drags her upstairs to the room they’ve rented.

     “What happened? Where’s Caleb?” he demands, and hearing that Fjord tenses immediately.

     “He - found something that was stolen from him, when - when we escaped the prison and we couldn’t get it back then, but it’s here now, in Zadash and he really wants to get it and now he’s probably _in there_ already, ‘cause he’s _stupid - please,_ we gotta go help him!”

     “Where?” Fjord demands.

Nott makes an anguished sound in her throat. “T - the crown guard barracks”, she whimpers.

Everybody falls silent at once.

     “What the hell - _barracks?”_ Beau demands. “That’s like - the worst place to break into! Ever!”

     “It’s - a matter of life and death”, Nott says hesitantly, because _technically_ she’s not lying _and_ she’s keeping her promise to Caleb. “He wouldn’t have otherwise, it’s very, _very_ important - “

     “Hang on a minute, are ya tellin’ us he could _die_ without this... this thing of his?” Fjord interrupts, his amber eyes finding hers in the dim candle light.

Nott bites the inside of her cheek. “I can’t say”, she says apologetically. “I’m sorry! But - but it’s so very important to him, and it was ripped from him! Used against him - !”

Realizing what she’s said, she slaps her hands on her mouth.

Fjord stares at her for a moment. Then, he grips the sword handle tighter, and there’s new steel-like _determination_ in his posture.

     “We need to hurry, they’re not the ones to really play nice”, Beau says.

     “Agreed, let’s move”, Mollymauk adds.

+

They gear up and rush outside.

+

They get to the barracks. The windows are dark.

And -

Nott suddenly gasps, and Mollymauk reaches to grip her shoulder instinctively trying to offer quiet comfort to her. A dark, pained shadow falls on Fjord’s features, and he grips his sword’s handle tighter until his knuckles turn white.

_Because they hear faint screaming._

_Caleb’s_ screaming.

+

They run in a blind hurry; thankfully the alarm has been silenced, the halls are empty, and they make their way downstairs - _downstairs, toward the -_

Nott nearly freezes, her hand gripping Mollymauk’s jacket.

     “Would you like to wait upstairs?” the tiefling asks quietly.

     “No! C - Caleb needs us - “

     “Figured as much. C’mon, that - doesn’t sound good at all”, he murmurs darkly.

+

Caleb doesn’t scream anymore.

+

His shallow breathing is strangled to desperate heaves.

+

They crash through the door.

It’s _hot_ in there. Stifling, burning _hot._

     “ _Caleb!”_ Jester shrieks upon seeing him. Caleb’s head lulls toward them, his eyes sunken, his face carved by tired pain. Salt water drips from his hair. There are burn marks on his arms.

Fjord growls: “Hands off him, _if ya don’t mind.”_

     “Who the bloody hell are you people?”

Without answering, Jester rushes past the stunned warden, ducks just in time when Mollymauk slides in to hit the man with the handle of his sword.

The warden stumbles, falls to the ground, the poker clattering beside him. Jester hastily rips the magical-resistant cuffs off Caleb’s raw wrists, and in that instant -

\- Caleb’s eyes turn blinding white, and all that _fury, fear, anxiety,_ _panic, shame_ pour out of him as a violent magical surge; the air drops into a freezing temperature, the walls glimmer with frost, and a cloud of _blizzard_ engulfs the warden, _crackling -_

     “W - wait - “

Caleb doesn’t.

The ice spreads and spreads and _spreads -_

 _-_ until the warden’s feet are frozen to the ground, covered with snowflakes, and his bulged, manic eyes dart frantically back and forth, shooting outraged glares at the wizard.

Caleb walks to him, his white eyes boring into his.

     “Do not come after us”, he says. “Or you will _not_ return anywhere alive. This is your last and final warning.”

     “ _Fuck you”,_ the warden spits - and Caleb punches him.

It _breaks_ a bone in his hand, the warden falls unconscious. Caleb hisses, falters, his knees _buckle_ -

\- all energy burnt out of him, he’s tired, in pain, _he’s on edge,_ bordering on utter hysterics _-_  

     “Caleb?” It’s Nott. So very careful and nervous and _gentle._ “Caleb, it’s all right - “

Caleb clutches his sternum, out of breath and suddenly dizzy. “The - the - “ he desperately tries to form words, but his mouth is dry, his thought process is slow and _sluggish -_

\- and he faints.

+

Instantly both Mollymauk and Fjord move to catch him, but Jester fixes a flat look on them and throws Caleb over her shoulder.

     “We need to leave”, she says tightly.

     “ _Yeah,_ right fucking _now,_ someone must’ve heard that, _out, people, out - “_ Beau says, keeping a lookout by the doorway.

     “W - wait, we need to grab Caleb’s thing - does anyone know what it is - ?” Fjord starts, but Nott pipes up:

     “I got it!”

Fjord gives her a quick look, but she’s stuffed Caleb’s fur into her robes, out of sight. It’s not her secret to tell, so they have to wait for Caleb.

+

Jester lays Caleb on the bed of their room and starts to heal, her brow furrowed with concentration.

     “What the fuck did they do to him?” Beau asks, her voice dropped something more hoarse. She keeps fiddling with her staff just to keep herself occupied. “They fuckin’ _burned_ him?”

     “Apparently”, Mollymauk murmurs, keeping an eye on Caleb over Jester’s shoulder. He hasn’t moved an inch since they arrived, holding a somewhat protective stance behind the cleric. “Jester?”

     “His - there’s something wrong with his - “ Jester frowns, puzzled. “I don’t get it, I _don’t,_ something in him is _bleeding_ and _drying_ in the same time, but it’s not the _burn marks - “_

     “Then heal him, c’mon, do somethin’, _anythin’_ ”, Fjord grunts, his own nerves fraying, settled other side of Caleb’s bed. “Jester, how can we help, there gotta be something _-“_

Jester clenches her jaw and returns to work. “Shut up, I’m trying! This is so slow, like it’s not even _working!_ Why isn’t it working?”

The soft glow of her healing magic flicker on the walls, dim and fading.

Nott doesn’t move from her spot beside Caleb, holding his hand.

     “Oh gods, he needs it”, she whispers, and tears well in her eyes.

     “What? What are you talking about?” Jester asks, glancing at her under her bangs.

Nott lets out a painful sound. “The warden must’ve driven him to a breaking p - forced him - oh, _no,_ you gotta wake up, you can’t leave this to me, Caleb - “ she sniffs desperately. “It’s your secret, not mine, I can’t blow it without your permission, you _can’t_ leave this to _me_ \- “

     “Nott, if you know _anythin’_ that might help - “ Fjord says, his voice all gravel and rough notes from utter worry.

     “I don’t get it - why isn’t it _working - ?”_ Jester’s gritting through her teeth, frustrated and terrified.

 _Forgive me, Caleb,_ Nott thinks, heartbroken and with trembling hands, pulls out Caleb’s most important treasure, the glossy seal skin under her robes and shows it to them.

Deafening silence falls into the room.

No one breathes. No one _moves._ They just _stare._

     “The warden _stole it from him?”_ Fjord’s voice rumbles low like thunder, so low that it would be terrifying for anyone else but them. Mollymauk curses through his clenched teeth.

Nott nods miserably. “Yeah. We couldn’t get it back when we escaped, but today he felt it’s presence in the city so - so we looked for it. Please, just - “ Shaking all over, she wraps the seal skin on Caleb’s chest, and a guttural, _anguished_ sound escapes Caleb’s throat.

His form flutters, flickers and -

\- suddenly, there’s an unconscious selkie lying on the bed.

They gape at him for a moment, and then -

     “Water”, Jester startles. “He needs water!”

Everyone rushes to action.

+

_silence._

_not quite._

underwater.

he’s floating gently, weightless and _light._

Caleb’s slowly, _slowly_ becoming aware of his surroundings; the soft sensation of water sliding against his fur - 

_Wait._

_Fur?_

Jolting up, jolting forward, now completely awake, Caleb rises to the surface and breathes humid, lavender scented air.

He’s in the inn bathroom. In a _tub._

_And his tail -_

_Oh - what, **his tail - ?**_

With a startled rush, he changes back and nearly slips.

     “You’re awake!”

Nott dashes into the bathroom and immediately he notices she’s been crying. “Are you okay?” he asks, worried, but it comes out groggy and hoarse - words feel strange in his mouth.

     “You nearly died, he _tortured_ you - I’m so sorry, I had to tell them, you were _dying,_ gods, I’m so sorry, Caleb - “

Tortured. The warden. Caleb remembers. Him forcing Caleb, pressing burn marks into his bare skin with the poker, teasing and tempting with the fur, dangling it like cheap redemption -

_i bet you miss it, huh, miss the sea, too bad, you’ll never get there, it’s a pretty fur, now isn’t it - you know what you’ll have to do if you want to get it back, if we make a deal, you remember -_

     “C - Caleb?”

     “No, you did the right thing”, Caleb tries to console her and _means_ it. “You have nothing to be sorry for, it’s all right. Thank you. I - I think I would have died, otherwise.”

     “But I had to give the skin back to you in front of them, they know now...”

     “It’s all right. It’s better now that there are no secrets. At least from my end”, Caleb smiles and reaches to ruffle her hair. “Thank you, my friend.”

Nott moves to hug him - until she  realizes it’s bath water and with a grimace, she settles to awkwardly pat Caleb’s hair and leaves.

+

After a while, Caleb rises from the tub, sheds the seal skin and just _holds_ it for a moment in his shaking hands.

It’s really _here._ Here and his and _here. After such a long time - after so much suffering and running and -_

He runs his fingers on the glossy fur, swallowing. Overcome with _relief,_ homesickness and nostalgia _,_ he rests his forehead against it and breathes deeply.

How long has it been?

_Enough, so long._

The fur still holds a comforting scent of sea salt. _Home._

He dresses himself, wraps the fur carefully around his waist and returns to the room.

He’s greeted with silence, and all of the companions turn to stare at him - each of them looking relieved and just a bit worried.

     “How are ya feelin’?” Fjord asks, no hard lines on his brow, his gaze flickering up and down, trying to see if he’s still injured.

     “You were out quite a bit”, Mollymauk says.

Caleb hesitates.

     “No, no, I’m fine.” He breathes deeply. “Thank you”, he says awkwardly, shifting. “For coming after me. I - I know I screwed up, it was less than planned, and yes, it was stupid, but - thank you for coming, nonetheless.”

The words sound formal and _stiff_ in his mouth, desperate for them to understand just how much this _means_ to him.

Fjord is the first one to move, and he approaches Caleb. “’Course we did. And - we get why it was a secret and a big deal. We _get_ it. It’s okay. So don’t - don’t worry about us, yeah?”

Caleb gazes up at him, a little desperately. “Are - are we all right?” he says, sounding more strangled than he would like, but he feels too raw, too _open_ to be anything else.

Fjord’s eyes soften. “Always. Damn, that must’ve been absolute agony for you - I - I can’t even imagine how much that must’ve hurt”, he says gruffly, eyes darkening. The idea of Caleb suffering doesn’t sit well with him.

Caleb laughs, choked and rubs his forearm. “It wasn’t pleasant, no...”

     “Oh, _stop_ it”, Mollymauk scolds him across the room. “Everybody knows the fish tales about selkies - that man violated your rights in the worst possible way - “

     “I know”, Caleb says. “I know. It was first about me doing magic, but then... then he realized what I was.”

     “What did he want? I imagine a man like that is not going to be pleasant about it.” Seeing how pale Caleb is Mollymauk adds quickly: “I’m sorry - that was blunt of me. If you don’t want to tell, that’s all right, don’t worry.”

Caleb sighs deeply, his fingers fumbling the hem of his jacket. “He... wanted to know if I could raise storms to sink merchant ships”, he murmurs.

No one asks if he can.

Caleb breathes deeply. “And if you wonder if I can... no. Which is why I was in the prison. He...tried to make it work.”

     “What an asshole” _,_ Beau snorts. “God _damn._ I’ve known assholes, but _damn.”_

     “I agree, what a _bastard”,_ Mollymauk grunts darkly.

     “He was in really bad shape, Caleb was, in the prison”, Nott whispers unevenly, wringing her hands again and shuddering when she remembers those times. “No water anywhere, it was kinda new too, wasn’t it...?”

     “So, how did you know the skin was in Zadash?” Jester asks curiously, gentleness still softening her voice.

Caleb clears his throat. “W - well, I _am_ a wizard”, he replies nervously. “And - I had an enchantment. It worked as sort of a vague radar, so to speak - it let me know when my skin was close, but I couldn’t know the exact location. It was all I had to help in such a short, limited time...it...let me be... _myself_ without - without the skin.”

His voice almost _breaks_. He remembers those exhausting nights, when he was terrified out of his mind, filled with this empty kind of _longing, despair,_ _horror_ that he’s incomplete, unnaturally _missing something so vital,_ like a limb cut off _-_

_(was studying magic really worth losing your skin?)_

Seeing Caleb’s pain, Fjord’s protective instincts kick in.

     “Hey, hey, it’s okay. You’re safe here, nothin’ is gonna hurt ya here”, he says gently. He doesn’t touch him, but his hands are hovering above Caleb’s shoulders. “You’re safe. You secret’s safe with us. I swear. They won’t find you.”

     “They are certainly welcome to _try”,_ Mollymauk mutters under his breath looking like he’s already plotting possible scenarios regarding any pursuers.

Caleb breathes deeply. “I know, thank you. It’s just... no. I’m fine.”

No one comments just how _not fine_ he is, how not fine _he looks,_ haggard, pale and tired, but the unimpressed, _worried_ disapproval on their faces is quite enough indication.

     “How ‘bout we take a trip to the seaside? Would that help?” Fjord asks, keeping his gaze on Caleb, trying to gauge if he’s in pain or not. “Caleb?”

Caleb’s so surprised he momentarily forgets how words work.

     “I - “

Fjord watches him, and Caleb’s heart seems to drown into a realization, into something soft and unassuming, real and hopeful. It’s been blossoming there a while, that warm glow he’s tried to very much _ignore,_ but... here it is, bare and open. 

     “Would that be all right?” Fjord asks carefully. “I mean, it’s a suggestion - “ 

     “You would _do_ that? For me?” Caleb’s voice very nearly cracks.

     “Always”, Fjord says instantly and something _fierce and warm_ flash in his bright irises, _quick and definitely there._ Caleb isn’t quite sure what to do with that information. 

Jester squeals. “Ooooh, we can build _sandcastles!_ Can we also find a beach with no seaweed ‘cause that’s icky?”

     “I don’t think there are many”, Mollymauk ponders.

     “Eew.”

     “The _seaside”,_ Fjord emphasizes firmly.

     “Yeah, fine, whatever! We’ll go!”

     “Ain’t really up to you, _Jester,_ I was askin’ _Caleb.”_

     “Pfft, we can go there _anyway!_ Stop being so grumpy, Fjord, I don’t like that, makes you all frowny and not fun.”

Blinking in astonishment, Caleb gapes at them. This - _this_ group that has become so dear to him, without him noticing.

And for the first time in a long time, Caleb smiles, tired and happy. _“Thank you._ I - I would love that.”

+

It’s both quite amusing and slightly stunning to notice that the group instinctively forms a protective circle around Caleb when they leave Zadash.

Caleb blinks.

They won’t ask about the seal skin, but Caleb feels a rush of affection for them when he sees them checking if it’s there, safely wrapped around Caleb’s waist, hidden by his coat.  

_Not taken, never again._

Not if they can help it.

+

The seagulls scream.

The sky is bright blue, and soft breeze tousles Caleb’s hair. Contentment and _peace_ settle in him like pure water washing filth away, and he sighs softly.

_It feels good._

The roar of the waves lull him; a comforting rush in his ears.

     “ _GET NAKEEEED!”_ Jester screeches from the other side of the beach, where she’s collecting pretty seashells with Nott. Beau’s pretending she’s _not_ building a sandcastle, and Mollymauk unashamedly pokes fun at her while also pretending that he’s _not_ helping her.

     “ _Jester!”_ Fjord scolds her. “Let him be!”

     “But he has to get naked, right? He can’t swim in that awful jacket!”

Caleb snorts a laugh and shrugs the jacket off, takes off his boots. The sand feels good between his toes. Slowly, he strips, not caring _one bit_ who sees him - and wraps the seal skin around his shoulders.

It’s a comforting, familiar, _heavy weight_ on him, and he wades into the sea, sinks under the rolling waves, and the sea whispers: _welcome back, child._

_You have been missed._

_You are forgiven._

_You are loved._

_Welcome home._

The fur melts into him, he shifts, _swims,_ dives, and wild joy explodes in his chest _._

_It works - it worked - !_

_Thank the gods._

_+_

After a long while, after immersing himself into the sea again, after relishing every sensation, chasing after bright bubbles, swimming beside silver-sided fish, he returns up to the surface near the beach, and Jester’s amazed.

     “Aww, you’re so _cute!”_ she squeals. “Look at you, your little nose, it’s so _adorable!”_

Caleb snorts. Of course she would say that.

     “I don’t recommend poking him on the nose”, Mollymauk remarks, amused. “I don’t think he would like that.”

_Definitely not._

     “How ‘bout you stop pesterin’ him anyway?” Fjord deadpans.

     “But look at him, he’s all squishy and round and adorable!”

     “To be fair, you are pretty cute”, Mollymauk agrees.

     “He looks like a sausage”, Beau points out.

Caleb does a very good imitation of rolling his eyes to high heavens.

Fjord flashes an amused grin. “I get’cha, buddy. C’mon, people, let’s back up a bit.”

     “Oh, is he gonna be naked again?”

     “Not for you, Jester, c’mon.”

     “Definitely _not_ for us”, Mollymauk adds with a smile and leads her back.

Caleb wades from the water, his fur wrapped around him. Fjord’s grin is charming, _gentle_ around the edges _._

     “Hey.”

     “Hi”, Caleb replies and pushes wet hair from his forehead. “I’m not going to lie, that felt amazing.”

     “I bet it did.” Fjord clears his throat, hesitant. “So, uh, d’you mind me askin’ something?”

     “No, at this point you can ask anything, and I would probably be all right with it.”

Fjord chuckles, the sound rumbling through Caleb, deep and rich. “Good to know. B - but no, actually, I’m kinda wantin’ to know if... what’re you gonna do now?”

_Oh._

     “You are wondering if I’m leaving you - the group”, he corrects softly, and Fjord’s throat twitches.

     “I mean, ‘s now an option to ya, ain’t it?” Fjord grunts, embarrassed. “You gotta miss it, right? The sea? Being free?” 

     “Perhaps”, Caleb answers. “But now it is an option for me. An option that I can choose whenever I want. I have that luxury of _freedom,_ at last. I am not being blackmailed or in jail. The choice is mine. And I choose to be with you.” An unsure little beat. “The group. You are a bunch of lunatics, but I’m very fond of you.”

_You, you, you._

Fjord’s eyes widen a fraction, the bright ember shining through. “We’re also fond of you”, he says, his voice now deeper. “We’d hate to see you go.”

     “You, huh?” Caleb repeats mildly, touch amused by this conversation. Maybe it’s his _light, floating_ set of mind currently at work, but he’s _happy._

Fjord swallows again. “ _I’d_ hate to see you go”, he grunts, looking at the white foat crashing on the sand.

     “Good. Because I’m not leaving.” Caleb gazes at him, bare with affection for this half-orc, who has been nothing but _good_ to him. Good and kind. “The sea is a terrifying place. Unpredictable and dangerous, you are right. There are things that will eat you and things that will do worse until you are nothing but a husk. So I’m staying. Having me around... could be an advantage.”

The realization sinks into Fjord, and he stiffens. “W - wait a moment, hey now - “

     “I will be here, if you ever need me”, Caleb says softly. “I’ll help, however I can.”

A strange expression passes over Fjord’s features; anguish, hope, _helplessness._ Then, he breathes deeply, steadies himself.

     “Too kind fo your own damn good, Caleb”, he finally growls, shaking his head in fond exasperation. “Goddamnit, you don’t even know what it is, what it _wants_...”

His hand twitches like he wants to touch Caleb, but stops himself in time, looking away, flustered.

     “No, but I know I want to help you, whatever it is, since it bothers you.”

     “ _Caleb - “_

Caleb reaches to pat Fjord’s shoulder, angles his head up to pin a firm look at him.

Fjord’s shoulders slump down. “Yeah, all right. _Dammit.”_

Something warm tingling in his chest, Caleb gathers the last of his bravery, rises on his tip-toes and presses his lips lightly on Fjord’s scarred cheek.

Fjord relaxes against his touch, almost instinctively leaning into it.

Heat spreads on Caleb’s cheeks, and he says in a hurry: “Okay, fine - that’s great, I’m staying, I hope that wasn’t awkward, goodbye - “

Fjord grabs Caleb’s wrist and gently pulls him back. “Thank you”, he says, meaning every word. “Seriously. You - you went through _hell_ and you were suffering - and still you do _this,_ be here for me - ”

Caleb isn’t startled by that.   

     “Always.”

Fjord stares at him, like he can’t quite believe, like he -

The air crackles between them; the tension shifts, _coils,_ they’re watching each other intently, gazes gauging, observing, _hoping -_

_( - the sea is a violent, unforgiving thing, it takes them, sinks them and is willing to drown them, but they are in it together, both of them.)_

And Caleb - he’s not brave, _he’s not,_ but he’s desperately _hopeful,_ so he leans in and brushes a very chaste kiss on Fjord’s mouth. It’s just a light press, simple and _comforting_ on it’s own, _a kiss that says i’m here._

A shudder goes through Fjord’s body and something in him collapses.

And he completely _surrenders_ himself to this, to _Caleb._  

Slowly, Fjord moves his hand to cradle Caleb’s jaw so _gently,_ like he’s so precious, so _important,_ and he kisses Caleb back, slow and honey-sweet, savouring the moment, letting _it move_ on it’s own weight, just two of them, sharing this together.

On a cold beach.

The seagulls screech above them.

+

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone who stuck this far, commented, gave kudos and bookmarked... thank you. You have no idea how much it means to me. I'm still learning to write and develop and do new stuff, so your support has been greatly appreciated. You are all awesome! <3
> 
> Come say hello or scream at me at vannral.tumblr.com !! :D

**Author's Note:**

> listen, i love critical role and i love writing. i don't think i've been writing this much in months. aaand i might not be that good with plotting. thus this happened. i’m probably using folklore wrong in the universe... Sorry! Anyway, please tell me if you see any grammar mistakes, not a native speaker, and thank you for reading! ヽ༼ ಠ益ಠ ༽ﾉ


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